Esme – POV
The next morning, I was dressed all in black.
In the corner, Duchess Martha—Ethan's stepmother—mourned quietly. She had raised Ethan as if he were her own son. Around us, many wept for the fallen warrior. As part of Eastbrone tradition, a ceremonial gun salute rang out in his honor. The priest's voice echoed through the silence as the bodies were laid to rest, offering prayers for their souls and gratitude for their service.
After the funeral, I couldn't eat.
"Take back the food," I whispered.
"Please, my lady, have something," Lily pleaded gently. "You need strength. You barely touched your dinner last night."
"Eat up, Esme."
